University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

—A Hall in the Capitol—a Chair of State, L. S. E.—The Tribune's Crimson Chair, elevated on two Steps, R. S. E.—a splendid Banquet, Lords and Ladies seated round the Tables, up the C.
Enter Savelli, Frangipani, and Cafarello, L., who advance to the front—Camillo and other Attendants in the backward, R.
Sav.
He bears him like a prince, save that he lacks
The port serene of majesty. His mood
Is fitful; stately now, and sad; anon,
Full of a hurried mirth; courteous awhile,
And mild; then bursting, on a sudden, forth,
Into sharp biting taunts.

Fra.
(C.)
And at the altar,
When he first found the proud and angry mother
Refused to grace the nuptials, even the nuncio
Quailed at his fiery threats.

Caf.
(L. C.)
I saw Colonna
Gnawing his lip for wrath.

Sav.
(R. C.)
Why, this new power
Mounts to the brain like wine. For such disease,
Your skilful leech lets blood.

Fra.
(C.)
Suspects he aught
Of our design? we hunt a subtle quarry.

Sav.
But with a wilier huntsman.
Enter Ursini, L.
Ursini,
Hath every point been guarded? be the masquers
Valiant and strongly armed? have ye ta'en order
To close the gates—to seize his train—to cut
The cordage of the bell, that none may summon
The people to his rescue?

Urs.
All is cared for,
And vengeance certain. Before set of sun,
We shall be masters of ourselves, of Rome,
And Rome's proud ruler. This quaint masque of ours—

Caf.
What is the watchword?

Urs.
Death.

Fra.
Peace, peace—he comes!

[Frangipani, Cafarello, and Savelli, retire up, L.
Enter Angelo, Claudia, and Ladies, R.—As Angelo leads in Claudia, followed by two Ladies, all the visitors to the banquet rise, and courtesy to Claudia, who returns it, and remains conversing with the Ladies.
Fra.
No, 'tis the blooming bride. Young Angel
Hath no ill choice in beauty.

Sav.
'Tis a maid
Shy as a ring-dove. See, how delicate,
How gentle, yet how coy! Poor pretty fool,
No harm must happen her.

Urs.
None, none.

[Angelo advances to them.
Caf.
[To Angelo.]
Good kinsman,
I would not have thee hear Savelli speak
Of thy fair bride.

Ang.
Ah! doth he praise her? Lords,
Beseech ye sit. [Lords and Ladies sit down.]
Savelli, I would fain
Make of thy daughter and my blushing wife
A pair of lovely friends. Look where they stand,
The fairest two in Rome.

Fra.
The Tribune comes.

Enter Rienzi, R., and Colonna, L.
Rie.
Where lags our hostess? Take thy state, fair bride—
“Thy one day's queenship. See, the nuptial wreath
Sits crown-like on thy brow; thy nuptial robe
Flows royally. Come, come, be gracious! Bid
A smiling welcome to the subject world.
Nay, never blush nor hang thy head;” remember
Thou art a Colonna. Wouldst thou be the first
Of that proud name to ape the peasant's virtue,
Humility? Fie! fie!

Col.
(L.)
Sir, the Colonna—

Ang.
(C.)
Nay, good my father, sure to-day our name
Hath cause of pride.

Col.
Heaven grant it prove so!

Sav.
Lady,
Thou art silent still.

Ang.
Shall I speak for thee, love?
Oh, weak and ineffectual were my words,
Matched with thy burning blush, thy quivering smile,
Thy conscious silence, Claudia!—Gentle friends,
Ye are nobly welcome.

Rie.
(R.)
This is well, fair son!
Yet we lack mirth. Have ye no mask astir?
No dance, no music, no quaint mystery,
To drive away the spectre, thought? A bridal
Is but a gilt and painted funeral
To the fond father who hath yielded up
His one sweet child. Claudia, thy love, thy duty,
Thy very name, is gone. Thou art another's;
Thou hast a master now; and I have thrown
My precious pearl away. Yet men who give
A living daughter to the fickle will
Of a capricious bridegroom, laugh—the madmen!
Laugh at the jocund bridal feast, and weep
When the fair corse is laid in blessed rest,
Deep, deep in mother earth. Oh, happier far,
So to have lost my child!

Cla.
(L. C.)
Father!

Ang.
(R. C.)
Thou hast gained
A son, not lost a daughter.

Rie.
(C.)
Love her, Angelo;
Be kind to her as I have been; defend her,
Cherish her, love her.

Ang.
More than life.

[Hands Claudia to the throne, L., and sits by her.
Rie.
Bring mirth—
Music, and dance, and song, and I will laugh,
And chase away these images of death
That float afore mine eyes. A song—a song!

[Sits down in the Chair of State, R.
Sav.
[To Ursini.]
Thou shouldst have named the masque.

Urs.
[To Savelli.]
Better anon.

SONG.

Rie.
A pleasant strain!
[A Citizen rushes from amongst the Attendants, and presents a paper to Rienzi.]
What wouldst thou, friend?

Cit.
[Gives a paper to Rienzi.]
May it please thee
To read this scroll, great Tribune.

Urs.
[To Colonna.]
Can the dœmon
To whom his soul is pledged have ta'en this way
To show our secret?—No, the smiles! he smiles!
His hand shakes not!—I breathe again.

Rie.
[To Citizen].
Fair sir,
All thou hast asked is granted.
[Exit Citizen, L.
'Tis no day
To frown on a petition. Mirth, my lords,—
Bring Mirth! I brook no pause of revelry.
Have ye no masque?

Sav.
[To Ursini.]
He rushes in the toils;
Now weave the meshes round him.

Urs.
Sooth, my lord,
We had plotted to surprise the gentle bride
With a slight dance,—a toy, an antic.

Rie.
Ay,
And when?

Urs.
Soon as the bell tolled four, the masquers were bid to enter.

Rie.
Four? And how attired?

Urs.
Turban'd and rob'd, and with swart visages,
A troop of lusty Moors.

Rie.
Camillo, hark!—Admit these revellers;
Mark me.—

[Gives orders in a low voice to Camillo, and also the paper which he has just received from the Citizen.
Urs.
[Aside.]
Now, vengeance, thou art mine!

Rie.
Wine—wine!
[To an Attendant.
Fill me a goblet high with sparkling wine!
[The Attendant fills a goblet, and presents it to Rienzi.
Fill high, my noble guests. Claudia Rienzi,
And Angelo Colonna! Bless'd be they
And we in their fair union! Doubly curs'd
Who'er in wish or thought would loose that tie
The bond of peace to Rome! Drink, good my lords,
Fill high the mantling wine, and in the bowl
Be all unkindness buried!

Urs.
Heartily
We pledge you, noble Tribune.

[All rise, except Colonna.
Rie.
Why, Colonna!
Brother!— [Colonna rises.]
He startles at the word. He eyes
The cup as it were poisoned. Dost thou think
We've drugged the draught? I'll be thy taster.—Drink!
The wine is honest—we're no traitors!

Urs.
Drink!
I pr'ythee, drink!

Col.
Health to the gentle bride!
[Drinks.
Health to my children!

Rie.
This is fatherly;
Noble Colonna, this is princely. Now,
If any scorn thee, Claudia, say Colonna,
Whose word is truth, hailed thee his child.

[Rises.
Cla.
My lords
And kinsmen all, if a poor simple maid,
And yet Rienzi's daughter, so may dare
To call ye, take my thanks. On every head
Be every fair wish trebled. Gentle friends—

[Rises to go, attended by Angelo, and followed by the Ladies.
Rie.
(R. C.)
Wilt thou not wait the masque?
[Exeunt Claudia, Angelo, and Ladies, R.
Thou wilt not.—Well!
We must carouse the deeper. “Hark, Francesco!
Go bid the fountains, from their marble mouths,
Pour the rich juice of the Sicilian grape,
A flood of molten rubies, that our kind
And drouthy fellow-citizens may chorus
Hail to the gentle bride. I would fain bid
Old Tyber flow with wine.” Another cup—
To thee and thine, Colonna! fill the bowl,
Higher and higher! Let the phantom, fear,—
And doubt, that haunts sound princes,—and suspicion,
That broods a harpy o'er the banquet,—flee
Down to the uttermost depths of hell. A health
To thee and thine, Colonna!

Urs.
Of what doubt
Speaks our great Tribune?

Rie.
A fit tale of mirth,
To crown the goblet!
Enter the Masquers at different sides.
Doubt!—Spake I of doubt?
Fear!—Said I fear?—So fenced around by friends,
Allies, and kinsmen, what have I to fear
From treason or from traitors?—Say yon band
Were rebels, ye would guard me!—Call them murderers,
Ye would avenge me.

Urs.
Ay, by death.

Rie.
And thou?

Col.
By death!

Rie.
Seize the foul traitors. Ye have passed
[To the Masquers, who seize the Nobles, &c.
Your own just sentence. Yield, my masters, yield!
Your men are overpowered; your masquers chained;
The courts are lined with guards, and at one stroke—
One touch upon this bell, the strength of Rome,
All that hath life within the walls, will rise
To crush ye. Yield your swords. Do ye not shame
To wear them?—Yield your swords.

Re-enter Angelo, R.
Ang.
Rienzi!
[Then to one of the Guards, who seizes Colonna.
Villain!
An thou but touch the Lord Colonna,—ay,
An thou but dare to lay thy ruffian hand
Upon his garment—

Rie.
Seize his sword.

Ang.
Again!
Art frenetic, Rienzi?

Rie.
(R.)
Seek of them.

Ang.
(C.)
Father, in mercy, speak! Give me a cause;
And, though a legion hemmed thee in, thy son
Should rescue thee. Speak but one word, dear father,
Only one word! Sure as I live, thou art guiltless;
Sure as the sun tracks his bright path in heaven,
Thy course is pure.—Yet speak!

Rie.
He is silent.

Ang.
Speak.

Rie.
Doth not that silence answer thee? Look on them.
Thou know'st them, Angelo:—the bold Savelli,
The Frangipani, and the Ursini,—
Ay, and the high Colonna; well thou knowest
Each proud and lofty visage;—mark them, now:
They should be signed as Cain of old, for Guilt—
Detected, baffled, murderous Guilt, hath set
His bloody hand upon them. Son, thou shudderest!
Their tawny maskers should have slain me; here,
Before my daughter's eyes; here, at thy bridal;
Here in my festive hour—the mutual cup
Sparkling; the mutual pledge half spoke; the bread,
Which we have broke together, unconsumed
Upon the board; joyful, and full of wine;
Sinful and unconfessed;—so had I fallen;
And so—the word was death.—From their own lips
Came their own righteous sentence—Death!

Ang.
Oh, mercy!
Mercy!—Thou liv'st.—'Twas but the intent—

Rie.
My death
Were nothing; but, through me, the traitors struck
At peace, at liberty, at Rome—my country,
Bright and regenerate, the world's mistress once,
And doomed, like the old fabled bird, to rise
Strong from her ashes. Did ye think the people
Could spare their Tribune? Did ye deem them weary
Of equal justice; and mild law; and freedom
As liberal as the air; and mighty fame,
A more resplendant sun? Sirs, I am guarded
By the invisible shield of love, which blunts
The darts of treachery. I cannot die,
Whilst Rome commands me, live. For ye, foul traitors,
I pardon ye, and I despise ye.—Go!
Ye are free.

Ang.
[To Rienzi.]
Oh, thanks, my father.

Col.
Said he thanks?
Chains, bring me chains! such words from such a tongue
Were slavery worse than death.—Chains—chains—

Rie.
Ye are free.

Col.
Is the proud pillar of Colonna fallen,
That base plebeian feet bestride its shaft?
Is Ursini's strong bear muzzled and chained,
That every cur—

Sav.
Good cousin, pr'ythee peace;
The Tribune means us fairly.

Rie.
Still ye are free.—
Yet mark me, signors:—Tame your rebel bloods;
Be faithful subjects to the good estate;
Demolish your strong towers, which overtop
Our beautiful city with barbarian pride,
Loosing fell rapine, discord, and revenge,
From out their dens accurs'd. Be quiet subjects,
And ye shall find the state a gentle mistress—
Else—

Col.
Doth he threaten?

Urs.
Hush! this is no time,—
An hour will come—

Rie.
What, do you mutter, traitors?
Follow me instant to the Lateran.
There, at the holy altar, with such rites,
As to profane were sin more damnable
Than treason ever dared, to offer up
Your vowed allegiance to free'd Rome,—to me,
Her servant, minister, deliverer,—me,
Your master. Ye are free; but I will chain
Your rebel souls with oaths. Follow me, sirs.

[Exeunt, R.